Misspell
by Sarryn
Summary: Circe and Allara wanted a big screen TV what they got was what they assumed to be a dead guy with green hair and a metal arm. He's not and now they have a guy who died, is now alive, and wants to go back to watch out for. Set after the series.
1. Default Chapter

More oddness from beyond the grave

More oddness from beyond the grave. To find out more just read and afterwards review.

Misspell

"This isn't right," Circe commented to her friend Allara. 

"You got that right," Allara agreed. Together they stared at the man laying on the floor. "Did you read it right?"

"I think so," she replied, checking through the book. She mumbled a random series of words under her breath and then nodded in satisfaction. "Yep, it checks out."

"So how come we have a hot guy in the middle of your living room and not a big screen TV?" Allara demanded, pointing at the guy with the bluish green hair and the metal arm. The other girl shrugged closing the old looking book with an annoyed snap. 

"Are you really complaining?" Circe demanded in disbelief. "A hot guy is much better than a TV."

Allara shrugged as if to say, "Whatever," and began poking the man with her barefoot. "I think he might be dead," she announced finally after several rather harder pokes gained no response. 

"Great, we summoned a dead guy into my house. Damn, my parents are going to kill me," Circe muttered running agitated hands through her dark brown hair. 

"Hide him in your closet," the other girl suggested with a helpless gesture. Circe rolled her green-gray eyes to the ceiling and silently prayed for patience. 

"Don't you think he'd start reeking after a few days?" 

"Oh…" was Allara's brilliant response. "How about until tomorrow because I really have to be getting home soon or _my_ parents will kill me."

Circe sighed dejectedly as she considered how she was going to get his dead weight up the stairs.

"Grab his legs, I'll grab his arms…arm and metal thing. I hope it doesn't come off," she finally said. "On the count of three lets lift him. One, two, three." Both of them groaned as they slowly lifted the man a few inches off the floor. Arduously they managed to reach the foot of the stairs and then stared up with similar looks of hopelessness.

"I don't think I can do this," Allara cried, completely intimidated by the stairs. 

"Don't be a wimp," Circe told her between gritted teeth as she backed up onto the first step. Their progress up the stairs was even slower than the one to the stairs. Both girls grimaced as the man's head repeated struck the steps. Allara wondered aloud if he would get brain damage and Circe informed her that it didn't matter because he was dead.

***

A rustling awoke her from some rather pleasant dreams of watching movies on a big screen. Apprehensively Circe cracked her eyes open and cast a furtive glance around the room. Everything looked in order as far as she could tell; of course that didn't say much considering the floor and much of the furniture was no longer visible due to vast amounts of discarded clothes, magazines and other items. 

Yawning she sat up and reached for he bedside light. Perhaps the hamster she had lost in there a year ago wasn't really dead. Then it sounded again and she traced the noise to her closet. She sat there for a minute in abject confusion and then it struck her.

Quietly she picked up her bedside phone and dialed Allara's number. She waited impatiently as the phone rang eight times, with each ring she silently pleaded for her friend to pick up the damn phone. 

"I don't want any, solicitors will be shot," a groggy voice announced.

"Allara, it's me, wake up," Circe hissed, clutching the phone with white hands.

"Circe? What the hell do you think you're doing?" Allara demanded suddenly sounding more alert. "It's fricking two in the fricking morning."

"I don't think he's dead," she whispered as she cast another fearful glance at the closet.

"Not…you mean he was…_is_ alive?" Allara gasped on the other side. "Oh my god, what if he's a serial killer or something?"

A dour expression descended upon Circe's face upon hearing her friend's last comment, "That makes me feel so much better."

"Oops, sorry. Why don't you do what all those dumb heroines do in horror movies," Allara suggested helpfully. Circe pursed her lips and debated whether she really wanted to hear what was coming next.

Sighing she gave in, "What?"

"Open the closet." She had no reply for this because she was actually considering doing just that to get the suspense over with. Of course since her friend had so reassuringly mentioned that the guy could be a serial killer, she wasn't feeling quite so eager.

"Can't I just…make a run for it?" she asked hopefully. Her friends sigh echoed in her ears.

"If I'm not mistaken, isn't your closet next to the door?" Allara waited for accession before continuing. "So wouldn't that make it more dangerous because you'd be in a vulnerable position?"

"How do you know so much about this stuff? Usually you're completely clueless and I have to tell you everything," Circe said, impressed with her friend's knowledge.

"Hey, I've spent many restless nights plotting how to escape my room if a serial killer tried to kill me." Circe sat there staring blankly at the wall for a few seconds. Had her friend no life? "Don't even think of the window because you're on the second floor and there's no roof under your window."

"Okay, then," she sighed glaring at the noisy closet. "I'm going to set the phone down and if you hear me scream for help call nine-one-one."

"What if you just scream?"

"Listen for any stabbing noises."

"Won't the police be too late?" Allara asked logically. 

"At least I'll take him down with me," Circe replied as she set the phone down on her bedside table. She wished she was the kind of girl that had some sort of blunt object readily available. Her only conceivable weapon was a Troll™ doll and a stuffed Easter bunny. Grabbing the former because of the hard, relatively, plastic she made her way over to the closet. Halfway there she grimaced as she discovered the slice of pizza she had lost two days ago. 

Dramatically she paused in front of the closet and readied the Troll™ doll to viciously strike if a knife-wielding maniac attacked. Biting her lower lip she reached for the knob with great trepidation. After taking a cleansing breath she steadied her hand and threw open the closet door. 

As she stared at the clutter and random stuffed animals that were stuffed up to the ceiling she realized that if he was alive he was probably suffocating to death. She stood there for a moment wondering if she do her civic duty and dig the guy out or leave him. Her conscience whacked her over the head and she heaved a resigned sigh. 

As she dug through the junk she could hear her friend screaming for her to "pick up the goddamn phone right now." Glancing between the phone and the closet she decided to quickly reassure her friend of her safety. 

"I'm fine, Allara, and I think he's kind of asphyxiating in my closet, so if you'll excuse me I have to rescue him." All of this was said in one long breath. As she dropped the phone she could hear her friend yelling at her to not be an idiot and get out of there. 

Kneeling down she started pulling out random articles of clothing and…a giant inflatable frogman? For the life of her she couldn't remember where she had gotten that. As she encountered furry things that she didn't think originally came that way and squishy things that oozed odd colored fluids, she knew she might want to clean up a little. 

She dug in deeper, muttering things about how they just had to stuff him in as deep as they could. She came face to face with a rather bemused and tousled looking man. He stared at her incredulously, the dark purple, teardrop shaped tattoo stood out against his pale skin. 

"Who are you and where am I?" he demanded from his sprawled position on the dirty floor of her closet.

"Hey that's my line," she told him, "Well…except for the where am I part because I'm at my house." He stared unblinking at her, something close to amusement flitting through his garnet eyes. 

"I'm Folken Lakur de Fanel," he replied with formal eloquence despite his rather bewildering predicament. 

"I'm Circe Laever and you're in my house and now I want you out," she told him calmly. Somewhere along the way she had lost her Troll™ doll. 

***

If anyone is curious this is after the series so he's dead and somehow still has that metal arm because I thing it's cool. Basically the two girls have managed to resurrect him and now he's in the real world. 


	2. Dull Conversation

Misspell

"And where would I go?" the man, Folken, asked with precise logic. Circe made a face and sat down on the floor to think it over. He remained sprawled on the ground, though he did straighten out his odd clothing and shifted to gain a more comfortable position.

"So? Go back to wherever that is," she replied at last.

"I'm dead." She stared at him in confusion. Carefully she looked him up and down, concluding that he wasn't transparent and nothing seemed to be on the verge of falling off due to decay.

"Well, damn. You sure don't look it." His expression didn't change, but she sensed the beginnings of exasperation.

"I assure you, I'm quite dead…or at least I was. Now I have no idea. May I ask again where we are?"

"You may."

"Where are we?" he asked with a sigh.

"The US, you're turn." He looked puzzled as he mouthed the name of her country. Suddenly he straightened up a look of wonder and anticipation naked on his face.

"The Mystic Moon? Truly?" he demanded urgently. She scooted away from him in alarm.

"I don't know what you're talking about, man, but this little planet here is Earth. We're not some sort of magical moon or whatever."

He shook his head and issued a soft chuckle. "Of course you wouldn't know. Quite intriguing."

A panicky scream broke through the disquieting silence. The man glanced around in surprise while Circe scrambled over to the phone.

"I'm fine Allara. See, alive. Sorry, gotta go. If you see my corpse on the six o'clock news than you were right. Bye." With that she slammed the phone down in its cradle and turned back to her uninvited guest. She found him standing by the closet and observing her with scientific interest.

"That device, what do you call it?"

***

"Um…mom…dad…uh…this is Folken something I can't remember and…Allara and I kinda summoned him from the dead. Plus he was from another world and…I don't know how to get him back." Circe smiled cutely and then frowned. Her reflection frowned back in disgust. "They'll never buy it."

"Quite fascinating. You can access almost any civilization with a click of this…'mouse'. Ingenious." She rolled her gray-green eyes and went back to practicing how she was going to introduce her guest to her rather conservative parents. At least they wouldn't be back for a few hours and the Folken guy was busy using her computer to explore the 'net. 

"I'm dead. They're gonna find my mutilated body hanging from the tree outside…or his," she muttered flopping backwards onto her bed. Something cracked as she hit the mattress and she found the remnants of her glass penguin collection. "Crap."

***

I'll write more next time I promise. Please review and make my world a happier place.


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